


First We Knew Love Through True Love's Kiss

by TheBravePrincessPure



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Badass Clarke, F/M, Injured!Clarke, Oneshot, Royalty AU, Think a mix between Mulan and Rapunzel, True Love, True Love's Kiss, Valentine's Day Gift, knight!bellamy, princess!clarke, queen!Abby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBravePrincessPure/pseuds/TheBravePrincessPure
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a brave princess and a rebel knight, and the legend of a true love’s kiss…Clarke is a princess who is tired of being sheltered from her responsibilities as a royal. Bellamy Blake is the knight in charge of keeping her safe. But he could never say no to his Princess.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 107
Collections: bellarkescord valentine





	First We Knew Love Through True Love's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a gift for Vikki aka @biconicclarkeyg on tumblr for our Valentine's day Bellarke discord gift exchange! Its nothing long or special, just a quick oneshot full of angst and love and a happy ending.

_Once upon a time, there was a brave princess and a rebel knight, and the legend of a true love’s kiss…_

Clarke had never fit the traditional title of princess. Even from a young age, she was sneaking into her father’s meetings and giving her opinions on the state of their kingdom when no one asked her to speak. Her mother continuously reprimanded her, wanting her to follow the proper ways of royalty, but she couldn’t change Clarke’s mind.

Then, when her father died in a targeted attack on their kingdom when she was just fifteen, she knew that she couldn’t let his legacy be one of weakness. She knew she had to protect the kingdom of Arkadia against their rivals, the people of Mount Weather.

Enter Bellamy. He was a knight in the royal guard, assigned specifically to keep her out of trouble. With the attack on her father leaving everyone uneasy about the safety of the royals, her mother had decided the best choice was to assign guards to be stationed at her door, to protect her at any time.

Clarke hated Bellamy, at first. Hated that her mother had assigned her babysitters when she was clearly old enough to look after herself. Hated that he always wore a stern face and barely spoke to her, and when he did, it was curt and short. Hated that he actually did his best to keep her from getting away with her dangerous activities. He was good at what he did. He was a protector, through and through.

Slowly, though, Clarke managed to worm her way under his skin. She slowly opened him up to more conversation, asking him about the safety of their kingdom and about the knights’ protocol if a threat were to arise. She asked to watch him train with the others when they sparred, and watched attentively. Bellamy thought it was a win, since he could still watch over the princess, while still keeping his regiment ready for any potential attacks.

That is, until Clarke picked up a practice sword one day and stood at the ready, extending the sword out to him with a raised eyebrow. He snorted softly and shook his head, walking towards her with a smirk. “Princess, I don’t think-“

He didn’t get to finish, Clarke lunging at him with a swift swing of the sword. He ducked out of the way, almost too late, and stared at her with wide eyes. She smiled and struck again, using one of the moves he had just taught Miller, his second in command. She performed it sloppily, though, and he easily blocked the attack with his own sword. He raised an eyebrow at her. “You really want to do this?”

“You know I do, Bellamy,” she retorted, spinning out quickly from under his sword’s weight and sweeping her leg to hook behind his knee, causing him to buckle. “My father protected his kingdom well,” she continued, standing over him with her play sword pointed at his chest. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

“The queen has given express orders to keep you safe,” Bellamy grumbled, his face stuck in a scowl. She was smaller than he was, but much more quick. With a little instruction, she had potential to be a great fighter, and live up to her father’s legacy of ruling her kingdom with great power. Power didn’t always come from size, it came from strategy and finesse.

“She may be the queen, but I’m in charge,” Clarke said triumphantly. “So, are you in?”

-

Mount Weather sent another attack two days before Clarke’s 18th birthday. The palace had been preparing for their annual ball in celebration, lavishly decorated in full. The watch guards on the outskirts of their kingdom sent a messenger who managed to get the news back to the palace quickly, and all preparations stopped suddenly. All of the kingdom’s knights, including Bellamy, suited up in armor and readied their horses for battle. A small group of guards stayed at the palace, scrambling to set up emergency defense to protect the royals.

The battle, of course, was chaos. Mount Weather had clearly planned out this attack since their first one against Arkadia all those years ago. Their knights had solid armor, forged from the strongest metal. Their weapons seemed endless. The knights of Arkadia started to fall, collapsing steadily as the battle waged on.

Then, out of no where, a knight on a fast black horse charged through their men, taking out a Mountain Man with a swift swing of a sword. Bellamy’s head turned in shock at the swiftness of the attack, and nearly missed protecting himself from being knocked off his horse by an attack. The black horse was familiar to him, having seen it many times on the palace grounds, trotting with a pretty blond princess on its back. He usually rode behind it, or beside it, chatting with his charge, smiling when she let out her beautiful laugh.

Panic set in as he watched from across the battlefield, seeing her take down knight after knight. She had a natural talent for sword fighting, that much he knew from their training sessions together. However, he never imagined that talent would be put to practical use so soon. He saw a blond curl sneak out from under her silver helmet, and instantly turned his horse around to ride towards her. She was his princess, his charge, and he would be damned to let anything happen to her.

He managed to keep Mount Weather’s knights at bay, circling her as she forged on with her attacks. They moved fluidly around each other, as they did when they sparred, except that this time, they were not against each other. Clarke caught his eye briefly, giving him a nod of acknowledgement. They worked well as a team, always had once they started Clarke’s training. It had brought them closer over the years, a friendship blossoming between them, and on occasion, a hint of something more. Not that either of them would ever act upon it, or acknowledge it.

The battle seemed to turn around. More and more Mount Weather knights began to drop, many of them at Clarke’s hand. She knew where to strike to slice under their armor, knew how to strategically take them down, one by one. Bellamy felt a surge of pride at his training, seeing how much their hard work had paid off. He could see the opposing knights begin to falter, seeing more and more of their comrades be defeated by this small new knight on this shiny black horse. Their numbers began to dwindle.

He had only turned for a quick moment. Only took the time to look away for a few seconds, knocking an opponent off his horse before ending him with a quick jab between the plates of his armor. When he turned back to where Clarke had been, he saw her horse, bucking wildly, but she wasn’t riding any longer. He tried to look for her, tried to see around the chaos of horses and men and weapons. He nearly got knocked down by a rush from another attack, but managed to fend it off. He steered his horse towards Clarke’s, weaving his way through the disarray and swiping down a few more armored men.

He caught sight of her blond hair against the green grass, through the black hooves of her horse hovering above her. He breathed a sigh of relief as he hopped off of his own horse, ducking down low as he shuffled towards her, his ears ringing with the sound of clashing metal. That’s when he saw the sword, jammed under the breastplate of her armor, sticking out from her body. Her head turned towards him, as if she sensed he was there, and her hand reached out towards him, beckoning him. He stumbled forward as he shucked his helmet, falling to his knees next to her body, his eyes wide as he took in the weapon impaling her.

“Princess,” he breathed, his voice caught in his throat as he grasped onto her hand.

“Bellamy,” she groaned, her eyes squeezing shut, her body quaking.

There was shouting above them, as the sound of clanging metal seemed to dwindle. Bellamy looked up to see the Mountain Men retreating, turning their backs on the battle they started. It was a forfeit, a war to be fought another time.

Bellamy turned back towards Clarke, leaning over her and stroking an errant curl away from her cheek. “Hold on, Princess. We can get you back. Your mother, she’ll know what to do.” His voice was nearly a whimper, a desperate cry for her to stay with him. He looked up to see Miller trotting towards them on his horse. “Get a cart, a wagon! We have to get her back!” His second nodded, although his eyes were wide, turning back towards the other knights to give the orders.

“Bell,” Clarke breathed, her voice raspy as she spoke. She locked eyes with him. “I need you to know. I’m so proud of you.”

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head, his dark curls bobbing with the motion. “No goodbyes. You can’t do this.”

“I have to,” she murmured, her fingers trembling in his grasp. “Thank you. For trusting me. For looking after me.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy sobbed, arching down to press his forehead against hers. “Please. Don’t go.”

Her breaths were getting shallow, and there was a gargle sounding in her throat. “May we meet again,” she whispered, her grip on his hand tightening briefly, before completely going slack.

The sobs that ripped their way out of his chest were unhuman. They bore the weight of a love lost, a love never claimed. They echoed through the field, settling into the ears of Arkadia’s knights and sending chills down their spines. They gave him space, allowing him to grieve, while surrounding the two of them in a protective barrier, their heads bowed for their fallen princess.

Bellamy did his best to reign in his cries, bury them within the newly formed hole within his chest. He gripped the handle of the sword sticking out of her armor, sliding it out of her as gently as he could manage. He gathered her body up into his arms, holding her close to his chest, her head cradled against his shoulder. His quivering fingers brushed her hair back, clearing it away from her beautiful, peaceful face.

“May we meet again,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as he pulled back, and his eyes widened as her armor creaked with her new breath. Her eyes fluttered open, a brilliant blue in the low setting light. They quickly settled on his face, and a look of relief washed over her expression, followed by joy.

“Clarke?” Bellamy whispered, a disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. His fingers frantically slipped under her armor plate, feeling warm, soft skin against her ribs, and when he pulled his hand back, they weren’t stained with her blood, despite the sword beside them being covered in it.

Clarke let out a breathless laugh, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her body to his as much as she could, the barrier of their armors prohibiting them from really feeling one another fully. His arms tightened around her, one of his hands tangling itself in her hair.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Bellamy whispered, tears springing to his eyes, this time from a positive emotion. “You were dead.”

“You saved me, Bellamy,” Clarke murmured, turning her face to press into his neck. “I love you,” she breathed; so quiet he almost missed it.

But he huffed out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, just below her jawline. “I love you too, Princess. But next time… can you please make it easier on me?”


End file.
